Old West Gunmen

[Gibson]

He died for "Disturbing The Peace"



We'll take a look at this character next. . .

"There was such magic in that name, SLADE! Day or night, now, I stood always ready to drop any subject in hand, to listen to something new about Slade and his ghastly exploits. Even before we got to Overland City, we had begun to hear about Slade and his "division" (for he was a "division-agent") on the Overland; and from the hour we had left Overland City we had heard drivers and conductors talk about only three things -- "Californy," the Nevada silver mines, and this desperado Slade. And a deal the most of the talk was about Slade. We had gradually come to have a realizing sense of the fact that Slade was a man whose heart and hands and soul were steeped in the blood of offenders against his dignity; a man who awfully avenged all injuries, affront, insults or slights, of whatever kind -- on the spot if he could, years afterward if lack of earlier opportunity compelled it; a man whose hate tortured him day and night till vengeance appeased it -- and not an ordinary vengeance either, but his enemy's absolute death -- nothing less; a man whose face would light up with a terrible joy when he surprised a foe and had him at a disadvantage. A high and efficient servant of the Overland, an outlaw among outlaws and yet their relentless scourge, Slade was at once the most bloody, the most dangerous and the most valuable citizen that inhabited the savage fastnesses of the mountains."

-Mark Twain, Roughing It Chapter 9

Hyperbolic, to say the least.

[Gibson]

So what to make of this Illinoisan, Joseph A. "Jack" Slade? Well, there are widely disparate tales of his life out there to choose from. They range from considering him the devil incarnate that would as soon shoot a man as to look at him, and a killer of up to 28 men, to someone as benevolent, as your typical good ole boy who raised a little ruckus on the weekends. . . As is often the case, the truth tends toward the middle. My guess? I know he killed one man and I strongly suspect he killed another in a stage holdup. As for all of the robberies he is credited with, I credit him with, maybe one. Many moderns say he held up not a single stage.

It seems fair to begin at the beginning. "Slade was born at Carlisle, Illinois [ca. 1831], and served in the Mexican War in 1848 [enlisted in 1847, and headed forthwith to Texas]. He appears to have gone into the Overland service in 1859. At once he plunged into the business of the stage line, and soon became a terror to the thieves and outlaws, several of whom he was the means of having shot or hung, although he himself was nothing of a man-hunter at the time." Slade developed a reputation at this time as a man good with a gun. He was. The wild fictions developed here. Many of the early aspiring journalists/authors went west after 1860 looking for daring do and when they did not always find it they invented it. (I would argue that they had no real idea where to look to find it, or they would have found it.)

A questionable incident, often used to point to his bad temper, even at a young age, is omitted above:

At 13 years old, it has often been repeated that Jack killed a tormentor at school by bashing him with a rock. Very possible but no concrete evidence.

From over-land.com: "While he was in Texas, or perhaps later--the accounts differ--Slade met and married the woman who would remain with him for the rest of his life. She was the voluptuous and lively Virginia Dale, a woman of handsome features even though she weighed in at 160 pounds on a tall frame. Jack, on the other hand, was rather on the small side--perhaps five foot eight, and about 150 pounds. Virginia was an admired and impressive woman of the frontier. She was reported to have been a dead shot with guns, an expert horse rider, and also a very capable manager of the lonely wilderness station at Virginia Dale. She also had a rather unlovely character and was forever interfering in her husband's business. In fact, a lot of their troubles seem to have originated with her. Well, this sweet couple spent the next few years in the Front Range of Colorado, where between 1850 and 1858 Slade was a captain of wagon trains transporting freight along the Oregon Trail.

By 1859, Slade had become an stage driver, and was a superintendent of the Central Overland stage line through some of the most lawless and dangerous stretches of the route in Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming. In early 1860 Slade supervised the construction of the almost 200 relay stations for the Pony Express. He took care of the horses and hired drivers, including Buffalo Bill Cody, whom Slade hired in 1861 when Bill was only 15 years old.

When Slade became an employee of Ben Holladay’s Overland Stage Company, he had an important job as a division chief. This meant that his job was to make sure that nothing . . . NOTHING, interfered with the movement of passengers, mail or freight on the Overland Stage. His single-minded efforts were very much appreciated by the stage line and he was valued as a man who could get the job done and bring the stages through on time and intact. This, in spite of hostile Indians, bandits and other ruffians who wandered the West in search of easy prey. The main problem, besides his terrible temper, was that Slade drank; and when he was drunk, he was capable of anything . . even murder." Maybe.

Virginia Dale Stage Station on the Overland Stage & Mail route Labeled "Robber's Roost" by Wm. Henry Jackson in this (his) photo. This is where Jack Slade began in the stage line business:

[Gibson]

There are two stories of Slade's killing of a big French Canadian named Jules Beni. This guy was by all accounts an ogre and a bully. He had established himself as a trader on the "Upper Crossing" of the South Platte River. He basically, robbed the Indians with whom he traded. It wasn't long until he decided to rob, figuratively, the fast growing hoards of immigrants moving through the area. His trading post now had a name for its location, Julesburg. Named, of course, for this human filth. So now are two versions of the incident between Slade and Beni.

Version one is from The Salt Lake Tribune, 06/19/94:

"His story begins in 1858 when the Overland company hired Slade to superintend the Sweetwater Division of the mail line from St. Joseph, Missouri, to Salt Lake City. The division ran from the "Upper Crossing" of the South Platte River to Rocky Ridge on the east slope of the Continental Divide. Stationkeeper at the Upper Crossing was Jules Beni, a sullen bearlike French-Canadian also reputed to be the leader of a band of cutthroats in the vicinity.

The town of Julesburg at the Upper Crossing was founded by Beni, and it had become a rendezvous for traders, Indian-fighters, buffalo hunters, adventurers, bandits and desperadoes who rode into town to divide their loot and squander it riotously. It was Beni's high-handed acts with company livestock and constant feuds arising from them that brought Slade and Beni into open rupture. Jules would not submit to the authority of the division agent and Slade would not brook Jules' interference. Beni had "sequestered" some of the livestock, and Slade recovered it for the company. That brought matters to a crisis.

It was a day in the early spring of '59 when Slade chanced to be at the Upper Crossing station. He, the hired hands and Beni were all in the corral engaged in conversation. After a few moments, Jules walked away from the group and entered his adobe quarters. Slade meanwhile headed for the bunkhouse to get something to eat. As he was about to enter, one of the hands spotted Beni emerging from the adobe with a pistol. "Look out, he's going to shoot!"

Slade, unarmed, turned at the warning and was struck by three shots from Jules' revolver. He staggered but did not fall. With a curse, Beni reached within the open door for a double-barrel shotgun. He fired both charges into Slade's slumping body. "There's an empty crate in the barn. You can bury him in it," Beni said and walked away. But in the dramatic tradition of every Wild West yarn ever spun, witnesses that day claimed a bloody, bullet-torn Jack Slade, breathed through smashed lips and told would-be grave diggers not to bother, that he did not intend to die, but would live to even the score with Beni. And he did.

He was taken into the bunkhouse, his wounds treated and in a few weeks he was removed to the family home in Carlisle, Illinois, where he eventually recovered to return to his duties on the stage line. The company hands, however, had decided to settle things their own way. While Slade was being doctored, they agreed the world would be better rid of cowards. They tossed a rope over a beam trussed between two large freight wagons, put a noose around Beni's neck and pulled him up.

It was at this moment that Ben Ficklin, general superintendent of the line, rode into the station--in time to cut him down before life was extinct. Hearing the story of Slade's shooting, Ficklin--because there was no legal tribunal at hand--ordered Beni to leave the country or be hanged by an informal court. He took the offer and fled. But he hadn't reckoned on Slade's terrible vengeance.

It came in August of 1861, two years after the shooting scrape. Slade was riding east on the stage from Rocky Ridge to his home at Horse Shoe, some forty miles west of Fort Laramie in present Wyoming. He had heard Jules Beni was driving stock out of Denver and would be crossing the Sweetwater Division. Slade had been told, too, that if Beni saw him first, he likely would be ambushed. So Slade and a small party of Overland hands waited for Beni and in running gunfight shot and wounded him.

There are various accounts of what took place next, Slade's friends denying them, and his enemies swearing they were true. But popular history holds that Slade ordered Beni tied to a corral fence and spent the better part of a day drinking and shooting the unfortunate captive to death by degrees. When he satisfied himself that Beni's murderous attack on him had been repaid, he put an end to it with a fatal shot, and in a final act of vengeance cut off the dead man's ears.

The Overland Stage Company, which employed him, and a military tribunal at Fort Laramie, the nearest for 1,500 miles, exonerated Slade after he reported the shooting. He became more troublesome than ever after that. His reputation blackened with each succeeding tale, such as how he responded to emigrant complaints about lost or stolen livestock by confronting a rancher he suspected of rustling, and opening fire through a doorway, killing three ranch hands and wounding a fourth."





Version two from legendsofamerica.com:

" But he had been threatened time and again by Jules, and was once shot and left for dead by the latter, who emptied a pistol and a shotgun at Slade, and left him lying with thirteen bullets and buckshot in his body. Jules thought he did not need to shoot Slade any more after that, and gave directions for his burial as soon as he should have died.



At that Slade rose on his elbow and promised Jules he would live and would wear one of his, Jules', ears on his watch chain; a threat which no doubt gave rise to a certain part of his ghastly reputation. Jules was hung for a while by the stage people, but was let down and released on promise of leaving the country never to return. He did not keep his promise, and it had been better for him if he had.



Jules Beni was a big Frenchman, one of that sort of early ranchers who were owners of small ranches and a limited number of cattle and horses -- just enough to act as a shield for thefts of livestock, and to offer encouragement to such thefts. Before long Jules was back at his old stamping-grounds, where he was looked on as something of a bully; and at once he renewed his threats against Slade.



Slade went to the officers of the military post at Laramie, the only kind of authority then in the land, which had no sort of courts or officers, and asked them what he should do. They told him to have Jules captured and then to kill him, else Jules would do the same for him. Slade sent four men out to the ranch where Jules was stopping, about twelve miles from Laramie, while he followed in the stagecoach. These men captured Jules at a ranch a little farther down the line, and left him prisoner at the stage station.

Here Slade found him in the corral, a prisoner, unarmed and at his mercy, and without hesitation he shot him, the ball striking him in the mouth. His victim fell and feigned death, but Slade -- who was always described as a good pistol shot -- saw that he was not killed, and told him he should have time to make his will if he desired. There is color in the charge of deliberate cruelty, but perhaps rude warrant for the cruelty, under the circumstances of treachery in which Jules had pursued Slade. At least, some time elapsed while a man was running back and forward from the house to the corral with pen and ink and paper. Jules never signed his will. When the last penful of ink came out to the corral, Jules was dead, shot through the head by Slade. This looks like cruelty of an unnecessary sort, and like taunting a helpless victim. . ."

You can decide. More to follow, later. . .



An overland stage team:

[Gibson]

Slade went back to work; he also established the Virginia Dale Station for the stage line.

"Virginia Dale was a "home station" on the Overland Trail, meaning that passengers could disembark, get a meal, and stay overnight in a hotel if the stage was delayed by weather or nightfall. Thirty to fifty horses were kept at the station which was located in a pleasant, grassy glade (or "dale") along a clear bubbling stream, later named Dale Creek. Slade probably named the post after his wife Virginia, whose maiden name might have been "Dale". Slade was an excellent stage manager as long as he stayed sober. Many stories credit him with outrageous actions from shooting up a saloon in LaPorte for serving his stage drivers whiskey, or for having "a fondness of shooting canned goods off grocery store shelves" to robbing the stage of $60,000 in gold, which later disappeared. Slade was fired as stage manager. . . after a drunken shooting spree at nearby Fort Halleck and left with his wife for Virginia City, Montana where he was hanged. . . by angry miners."

In 1863 Mr. Slade was plugging along as an outstanding guard/manager of the overland trail stage route. However, slowly but surely he was giving in to demon rum! As the spring moved toward the summer Slade's drinking escapades and terrorizing of locals became more noted. He gained some sort of legendary status at the Virginia Dale stopover for shooting canned goods off the shelf. THE MAN WAS BECOMING A HAZARD!

Shortly, Slade masterminded a stage coach robbery that involved $60,000 dollars in freshly minted GOLD. A true fortune in today's dollars. It is reported in numerous recollections that Slade out and out murdered the stage driver. At this date there is no way to prove that Slade masterminded the robbery or killed the stage driver. It is speculation on my part. BUT think about who would be aware of the $60, 000 gold dollars on that particular shipment? Who would be privy to all of the particulars? Who would know the best place to hit the stage? Who might be easily recognized by the driver, thus necessitating him being shot? The U.S. Cavalry at Fort Sanders was the destination as it was for the soldiers' pay among other things. The soldiers themselves did run the robbers to ground but recovered only an empty box, and it at least one of the robbers escaped.

Here is what one victim had to say, a man who was a significant citizen of the area:

“I turned quickly and looked into the muzzle of two revolvers. I had met Slade before, but now we were properly introduced.”
—1880s reminiscence, Frank G. Bartholf, Larimer County commissioner

A scavenged synopsis of the general story put forth about the robbery. I tend to agree with it, generally, as I have set forth above.

"A gold shipment of over 200 lbs that amounted to $60,000 in freshly minted coins (about $2.6 million dollars today) was being shipped by the US Government, and the shipment represented several month's of back pay for soldiers at the fort. Masked men ambushed the stage carrying the gold, and made off with the entire payroll about a mile north from the Virginia Dale station. The robbers were chased down and killed by the US Cavalry, the troopers did eventually find the iron strong box in a nearby creek, broken open and empty. The stage line suspected that Slade was the mastermind for the holdup, but were unable to prove it. The owners of the stage line felt they had no other choice and fired him."

As has been stated MANY historians discount the robbery as being committed by Slade. Indeed, " After this he grew more turbulent, and was guilty of high-handed outrages and of a general disposition to run things wherever he went. The officers at Fort Halleck arrested him and refused to turn him over to the stage line unless the latter agreed to discharge him. This was done." My supposition is that he was a robber and he was arrested at Fort Halleck for being a reprobate.

Jack now spiraled down more quickly. He drifted with his wife and finally they landed on a ranch about 10 miles outside of Virginia City, Montana. Slade haunted the settlements around Alder Gulch and his wife stayed at home. Jack Slade was now a full blown alcoholic and a violent and mean drunk.

STRUNG UP FOR BEING AN OVERBEARING BULLY

Slade very quickly became a problem for the locals and the locals has an answer to Jack and others of even worse ilk. It already existed in the form of a Vigilance Committee. (Later chronicled by Thomas J. Dimsdale in his work "The Vigilantes of Montana", were the killings of Sheriff Henry Plummer, Jack Slade and others.) Here is a summary of the end as posted on the legendsofamerica.com website:

"Slade now began to grow ugly and hard, and to exult in terrorizing the hard men of those hard towns. He would strike a man in the face while drinking with him, would rob his friends while playing cards, would ride into the saloons and break up the furniture, and destroy property with seeming exultation at his own maliciousness. He was often arrested, warned, and fined; and sometimes he defied such officers as went after him and refused to be arrested. His whole conduct made him a menace to the peace of this little community, which was now endeavoring to become more decent, and he fell under the fatal scrutiny of the vigilantes, who concluded that the best thing to do was to hang Slade. He had never killed anyone as yet, although he had abused many; but it was sure that he would kill someone if allowed to run on; and, moreover, it was humiliating to have one man trying to run the town and doing as he pleased. Slade was to learn what society means, and what the social compact means, as did many of these wild men who had been running as savages outside of and independent of the law. Slade got wind of the deliberations of the committee, as well he might when six hundred men came down from Nevada Camp to Virginia City to help in the court of the miners, before which Slade was now to come. It was the Nevada Camp Vigilantes who were most strongly of the belief that death and not banishment was the proper punishment for Slade. The leader of the marching men calmly told Slade that the Committee had decided to hang him; and, once the news was sure, Slade broke out into lamentations."

Jake's wife Virginia was embittered by the whole thing. She had his body preserved in alcohol and later shipped to Salt Lake City. Nevertheless it seems Jack ended up in a pauper's grave.

Finis

[jmort]

"Not much, Mary Ann"

I agree, Buckshot Roberts, what a bad a$$. Great name and great line. Great stuff as always, my hats off to you.

[Gibson]

"Not much, Mary Ann"

I agree, Buckshot Roberts, what a bad a$$. Great name and great line. Great stuff as always, my hats off to you.

One of my all-time favorite lines!

Thanks man!

[Gibson]

Some information on "Mad Dan Morgan" from very old newspapers, along with an intriguing account of an incident near the end of his life from a website. One newspaper account is primary source material. This is not a sketch per se but is just like the Ned Kelly stuff. . . it's just so fascinating to read these old newspapers accounts, especially contemporary ones. ENJOY! Some real ******es, those bush rangers.

Images included, along with a reward poster.

I suggest a cup of coffee and a doughnut and an hour of time to devote to the old Aussie Bush Ranger.



Here is a digitized newspaper account penned in 1924. Note: There are typos due to formatting but they are easily deciphered. MANY times it involves an "o" for an "e".

"Singleton Argus" (New South Wales)

Saturday 14 June 1924

BLOODTHIRSTY MORGAN

(By SIR SOLOMON.)

A study of the characteristics of tlic Australian bushrangers operating ? during the great bushranging era—1860 to 1880—will disclose the fact that the methods and tactics of some differed considerably from those adopted by others. Unfortunately, all brought into prominenco tho traits of tho ruf fian, but even in this there was a graduated scale of viciousness, in which Daniol Morgan shone as tho high' priest of infamy. Morgan was a mon ster rather than a man, his lust for bkod was insatiable, and ho tortured liis victims for tho pleasure their writhings gave him. At one timo there was a pross con troversy as to Morgan's proper name, some holding that it was Moran, whilst others maintained that it was Owen. Tlie former based their arguments on ?the fact that Rolfo Bolderwood, in "Bobbery Under Arms," depicts.? a vicious outlaw under the name of "Daniel Moran." . All were agreed that Morgan was not his name, and offi cial records show that ho was tho ille gitimate son of a woman named Owen, but known as "Tho Gipsy," whilst his father was a man named Fuller, well known about the Haymarket, Sydney, where he plied a vegetable and fruit barrow. He was born in 1830 at Ap pin (N.S.W.), and as a chid was adopt ed by a man known as "Jack the Welshman," a' person who was not re garded as ono likoly to inculcate vir tues into the growing child. In 1847 the youth Owen left the roof of his foster parent, at Campbolltown, aud found employment on a station on the Mumi.mbidgee as a stock-rider. Ho proved himself an efficient workman, and remained on the station seven years. In 1854 ho returned to Campbolltown, and spent an idlo year with his fostor father. His mother, in the nioantimo, had married, and was living at Bath urst, so young Owen decided on visiting her, and for the purpose he stole two horses with which to make tho trip. Along the road ho had an oneouuter I with a party of police who wero after him for stealing tho horses, but he managed to evade arrest, and was not heard of again till 1863, when he blossomed forth as Morgan, tho bush ranger. Ho rarely operated in com pany, but on August 22ud, 1863, ho had a companion, known as "Gorman Bill," when the pair were surprised by a party of police, and a desperato fight, ensued. Mr Baylis, a polico magistrate, was assisting tho attacking party, when Morgan shot him, but ho recovered from his wound. Finding tho polico persistent in their attack, and the posi tion becoming extremely gravo, Morgan turned on his mate and shot him so that the police would devote their attention to tho German, and thus enable himself to escape. The uoxt victim of this scoundrol's gun was a shepherd, who was sitting on a log feeding his faithful companion of the bush—a sheep dog— when Morgan rode up and, without ut tering a word, shot him dead. Some time later Sergt. M'Ginuorty and Con stable Churchlcy wore riding along tho Tumberumba-road, when thoy met Mor gan noar Copabella station, and, not knowing tho man, tho Sergt. bado him "Good day."-Morgan replied: "You'ro wretches looking for bushrangers," and, drawing his revolvor, shot the sergoant dead. Churchlcy galloped away for assistance, and on returning to tho scene of tho outrage found that Morgan had placed the dead man's hat on tho road opposite the spot ***** M' Ginnerty 's body had fallen from tho horso as it bolted into tho bush, j/lie next serious crime perpetrated by this savage was when he called at Ilcnty's station, betwoon Wagga and Albury. He rounded up all the station hands and imprisoned them in tho curpouter's shop; then ho visited tho rcsidonco ?>* the Superintendent, Mr Watson, who was conversing with the general over seer (Mr M'Noil), and tho cattlo over seer, and a visitor named Herriot. Ho walked into tho house, and, with the salutation, "I'm Dan Morgan," de manded a drink of grog, which was readily supplied him. He next de manded dinner, and, after partaking of same, ordored the men to accompany him to tho carpenter's shop aud to bring all tho grog in tho place with them. It did not take long for tho 12 men to consume tho four bottles of gin and brandy, and, after relating how tho police had come across him the pre vious whilst ho was resting in a shepherd's hut on the adjoining run, ho made preparations to depart. ' He had a loaded revolvor in each hand, and as ho was mounting his horse ono of the revolvers was accidentally dis charged Tliis led tho half-drunken bushrangor to assume that ho had been firod at by one of his prisoners, and ho began firing in a'l directions, and young Horriott 's leg was shattered, and a station hand received a supeificial wound. Ho then aimed at Mr Wat son's head, but that gentloman instinc tively put his hand up to protect him self, and the bullet passed through it and struck his hoad, but its force was snent. After firing several moro shots amongst his captives Morgan appeared to relent of his actions, and began to givo "first aid" to- his victims. lie ordored Mr M'Lean, tho cattlo ovor secr, to go for surgical assistance for the wounded men, but that gontloiuan had only gone some three' or four miles when tho bushranger went in pursuit of him, and, on catching up. with him, said that M'Lean's readiness to go for a doctor Avas only bluff, and that, ho was really going to inform the police, and with that drew his revolvor and shot tho unfortunato man, tho bullot passing clean through his body. An hour later tho inmates of Watson's houso wero horrified to soo the outlaw roturning, holding liis latest victim on his horse's back. Poor M'Loan lin gered in groat agony till tho follow ing night, when death relieved him of his suffering. At 1 o'clock tho foi-' lowing morning Morgan, who had boon joined by two of his "bush tole graphs," or confederates, loft tho sta tion and camped till daylight, two miles away. A largo body of polico arrived within an hour of thoir depar ture from Watson's, but tho polico did not appoar too anxious to come in con tact with them, as thoy remained at the houso till lato that aftornoon, by which time Morgan was woll away from the locality. Tho Government now put forth strenuous efforts to of foct his capture, or compass his death, and £1000 reward was offered, in tho hopo of stimulating polico onorgy or oneouragiug the outlaws' friouds to be tray him.

Another illustration.of Morgan's bru- , taility was furnished when ho visited | a station near Jerilderio for the ex press purpose of shooting the manager, whom ho accused of being too friendly with the police. Tho manager was, I fortunately, away from home, so tho ruffian compelled his wifo to prepare him a meal, and after partaking of it ho asked tho good woman foi - all tho money there was in the house, but sho declared there was none. He then drag ged her to the fire and forced her to sit on it, amidst the terrifying screams of hor children. When her clothes wore woll alight.he pulled her off and put out the firo, but not beforo sho was terribly burned. Morgan filled in the time between ono murder and another by most daring feats of highway robbery, and travel lers submitted to him *****, witli any one else, they might havo been inclin ed to offer resistance In September, 18G4, a party of police, consisting of Sergt. Smytli and Constables Cannon, Baxter, and Eoid, were out seeking tho outlaw, whon ho camo across their camp near Kyamba. Morgan could see by the shadows on tho tent that tho placo was occupied, and lie recog nised ou the canvas tho profile of Sergt. Smyth, and he fired at it, with deadly effect. For a timo a warm fusilado Was kept up by the other polico and the outlaw, but lie escaped unhurt. One day a party of police called at Mr ,Vincent's station, at Mittagong, seeking information from tlie proprie tor as to Morgan's movemouts. Mr Vincent said: "What is tho uso giving you information whon you don't act on it?" After further recrimination, Mr Vincent said: "I am tired of giving the police information, but I will try you once more. Go to , where there is a wattle-sided stable, and if there' is a big chestnut horse in it Mor gan is not far away; hido in the thick scrub thero and you will see him return during tlio night." The police de parted, and a short way along tlio road thoy mot a man on horseback, whom thoy questioned about the outlaw, and enquired about tho wattlo-sided stable, telling him of tho information impart ed thorn by Vincent. Next day Mor gan visited Mittagong and stuck-up Vincent's station and made prisoner all the shearers who were engaged shearing thero. Some of tho -shearors he mado tio Vincent to a fenco 60 yards from tlie woolshed, and when this was completed lie said to Vincent, in a sneering manner: "So you aro the man who gave information to the polico about my whereabouts, and your life is forfeited. If you havo anything to say to your wifo and children I will call them up to see the last of you, for you havo but five minutes to live." Ho then despatched a shearer to bring the man's family up to witness the murder, and' on arrival tho piteous ap peals of the wifo and children oven movod Morgan, and he offered Vincent, as an alternative to being shot, tho burning of tho woolshed and its con tents. During tho conflagration Vin cent remained tied to tho fence, aud on boing liborated was almost ? roasted, and quito unconscious, but camo round aftor a littlo attention. The outlaw then proceeded to tho store aud set a fire-stick in it, and it was totally de stroyed. It was subsequently ascer tained that the man whom tho polico met along tho road and questioned was Morgan. During tlio Christmas holidays fol lowing this incident Morgan attended a race meeting at Wagga, and actually sat at the lunch tablo with some of the polico who wero seeking his where abouts. At last tho day of reckoning was fast approaching, for tho outlaw took umbrage at a challengo from tho Vic torian polico for him to cross tlio bor der, and they would cut his. carcor short within 48 hours. On April sth, 1565, ho crossed tho Murray, and mado liis raid on Victoria. Ho was mounted on a beautiful racing niaro named Vic toria, which ho had stolen from Mr Bowler, and had otherwise mado ex tnsive preparations for a dosporate en counter with tho Victorian custodians of the law. His first act was to burn down the barn, stables, and granary of Mr Evans, for tho latter, in an en counter somo timo previously, having shot off a couplo of liis fingers. Next day ho stuck-up and robbed a great number of peoplo on tho road botwoon Wangaratta and Boualla. Oil tlio Bth, or throe days aftor his arrival on Vic torian soil, ho visitod Poccholba sta tion, owned by Messrs M'Phersou and Rutherford, and mado prisoner all per sons on tho place. He made all stand with their backs to the dining-room wall, and then compelled Miss M'PJier sou to play clic piano. As everyone appeared to iie quite happy, he relaxed somo of tho hardships imposed upou his prisoners and allowed them to sit and movo about the room. Ho appeared awfully fatigued, and said ho had no sleep for fivo days and nights. His description of the hardships endured by bushrangers clearly indicated that ho regretted having adopted tho in'ofcs sion. He ordored refreshments, and the time passod pleasantly; at last ono of the domestics evaded observation and rushed to Mr Rutherford's houso and informed him of the bushranger's attack at M' Phcrson 's. ltuthcrford now collected all tho availablo men about the place and surrounded tho house, lie also despatched James Prasor ' to Wangaratta, somo 42 milos dis tant, to 'inform tho polico of tho out law's presence. Altogether, somo 14 armed persons surrounded tho house. Somo of whom wantod to rush the placo, but it was docidod to wait till daylight to mako tho capture. As tho sun was peeping ovor tho horizon Morgan ap peared at tho back door, aud had a look around to sco that all was right, and then mado preparations for leaving. Ho told Mr M'Phcrson that ho was to provide him with a good horso so that lie might spell "Victoria," and at 8 o'clock thoy proceeded to tho stablos for that purpose, the bushranger having Mr M'Phcrson on ono sido of him and tho hitter's son ou the other. Thoro was intense excitement among tho men surrounding tho placo, whon a now chum Irishman, named Quinlan, camo from behind a stump and. fired at tho outlaw, who foil, mortally wounded, as ho exclaimed: "You cowardly dogs; why didn't you challenge mc?" xiio body was taken to Wangaratta, whoro an iuquost was held,' and a vordict of justifiable honiicido was returned. As the body lay at tho polico barracks somo ono skinned the outlaw's faco for the purposo of securing the flowing beard that covered it. Much indigna tion was aroused by this barbarous act, and the Coroner, and a police officer, were charged with the offense.



Better quality of the above:



Wanted blurb:



An end game event in his life, unusually merciful, for him, from murrayriver.com.au:

"On 19 June 1864 he 'visited' Round Hill Station, confronting Mrs Watson the wife of the Manager at 11 am in the morning, demanding food. On her husband's return, a gunfight broke out between Morgan's men and the station hands. Station employee John McLean was sent for help, but Morgan changed his mind, chased him and fatally wounded him.
John McLean's Grave
This grave is the only existing evidence of the most historic and tragic bushranger hold-ups in the history of Australia.

In June 1864 Dan Morgan called at the Round Hill Station and rounded up all the station hands and their wives. He herded them into the carpenters shop and ordered the manager, Sam Watson to bring rum from the cellar. After partaking of rum Morgan demanded fresh horses, stating he would return them on the next visit, when mounting one of his pistols discharged, Morgan assumed that he was fired upon.

He opened fire and wounded a neighbouring station and John Heriot in the leg, he then demanded that Watson stand still while he shot him dead, however Mrs. Watson stood in front of her husband to shield him and pleaded with Morgan to spare her husband for the sake of the children, moved by her bravery, Morgan ordered Watson to place his hands in the air, Morgan fired a shot which shattered Watson's hand.

Morgan realised his mistake, he ordered young station hand John McLean to fetch a doctor at Walla Walla Station.

Later suspecting that McLean would return with the 'traps' (police) Morgan gave chase and shot McLean in the back. Again realising his mistake, Morgan returned to Round Hill Station with the wounded McLean and stayed with him until he died.

Morgan had not long left when a party of police arrived in search of him.

Familiarise with the events and Morgan's state of mind they decided to give him away for that day, assuming that Morgan had only travelled a short distance and camped on the banks of the Billabong Creek.

The actual location of the grave is beneath the Kurrujong Tree in the depression to the right of the site, near the 'Round Hill' Woolshed (built 1868-69). The original Round Hill Homestead is beyond the Woolshed (built approx 1848) ad is still occupied.

The Victorian police had boasted that if Morgan crossed the Murray he would be captured within 48 hours.

The challenge was too great for Morgan and he crossed the river in April 1865. Within two days he had held up and robbed three properties, burned down haystacks and out buildings, and held up coaches on the Benalla Road. On April 8 Morgan held up his last property, Peechelba Station, near Wangaratta.

In one of his better moods he demanded that the occupants, the McPhersons, prepare a meal and provide him with entertainment. He kept the family in range of his gun. then he 'requested' Mrs McPherson to play the harmonium to him while he ate. As the baby, Christina, kept crying in the next room, he angrily told a maid to 'go out and keep that brat quiet'.

The maid did so, but having calmed the child, she climbed through the window, raced to an adjoining property, gave the alarm, came back through the window and walked into the main room as though nothing had happened.

Having had no sleep, Morgan left the house next morning to a welcoming party of some 40 armed police and volunteers. He was shot and later died at 2pm on April 9 1865. Dan Morgan is buried in the Wangaratta Cemetery.

The site of the graves of two of Morgan's local victims. John McLean and Sgt Smyth (who was shot west of Henty in 1864) are located in the Shire."

[Gibson]

Sergeant David Maginnity was shot by infamous bushranger ‘Mad’ Dan Morgan in what is now Mundaroo State Forest. The exact site's appearance ~150 years on:



"The Argus" Melbourne, Victoria Friday 14 April 1865. The same requirements are needed for typos due to format.

MORGAN, THE BUSHRANGER.

THE INQUEST.

The inquest on the body of Morgan was commenced on Monday, by Dr. Dobbyn, the coroner, at the woolshed, Pechelba.

Mr. Superintendent Winch examined the

witnesses.

After viewing the body, the jury were taken to the spot where Morgan fell, and were shown as near as possible where Windlaw stood when he fired the fatal shot. They then adjourned to the parlour in Mr. M'Pherson's house, where Morgan the previous evening had bailed up the family. On the previous morning, Morgan's body was sewn up in a woolpack and brought into Wangaratta; and the head was cut off and a cast taken of it.

The following evidence was taken:-

Edmond M. Bond, Bunganwo station, King River, squatter.—Have seen the de- ceased. Recognise him as a man that I knew three or four years ago as "Down the River Jack," alias " Bill the Native." Saw him at that time about a mile and a half from my paddock fence. I pursued him at that time, and fired at him, with a charge of shot, at his left arm ; he dropped a coat, which I after- wards picked up riddled with shot, and sup- posed from that I had wounded him. I identify the deceased by his general appear-

ance.

Thomas Kidston, settler, Walbundra sta- tion, Billabong, said,—I have viewed the body of the deceased. Recognise him as a man that has stuck me up twice, and told me his name was Morgan. It was in October or November, 1863. He took a horse from the station. The second time was two months afterwards. I heard a shot near the house. Met the deceased, and saw a pistol, my property, in his belt,which he must have taken from my house. He admitted he had been in my house, looking for a revolving rifle. I have no doubt that the deceased lying outside is the man Morgan, who stuck me up twice. I have not seen him since. I know that a reward has been offered for the capture of the deceased man, Morgan, by the news-

papers.

Ellen Turner, wife of Thomas Turner, labourer, Mulwala.—I have seen the deceased outside. I have seen that man alive at Dr. Mackay's, Wahgunyah station, New South Wales. I think it was on the 1st February, 1865, that he was there. He came overnight, and remained there till morning, when I saw Mr. John Mackay's rifle in the deceased's swag. Mr. Mackay's horse bolted, with the swag on him. The deceased carried away with him the rifle, a saddle, and a horse, and about £4 in money. I was in bed when he came, and did not hear him say much. Have no doubt that the deceased is the same man.

William Ariel, of Corowa, New South Wales, storekeeper.—I have seen the deceased man outside. I recognise him as the man that stuck me up at Wallandual, New South Wales, fifty miles from Corowa, on the 28th December, 1863. He called me out of the hut, and told me he wanted my cash. Told me to put it on the ground. Presented his revolver at me, and I put the cash on the ground. He said, "Now I want your watch." I put that on the ground. He then said, "Now your ring." He took that. I was hawking at that time, and the property he took amounted in value to £35. Have no doubt whatever that the deceased is the same man that I have referred to as having robbed me. I do not know his name.

Morris Brash, hawker, Beechworth.—Have seen the body of deceased lying in the shed. Recognise him as a man that stuck me up and robbed me about four miles from Wallan Wallan station, New South Wales. He took £4 10s. in money, and about £30 worth of property. This was in June, 1863. On the second occasion he stuck me up twenty-five miles from Wagga Wagga; then took £12 cash, and £50 or £60 worth of property. Am sure that the two robberies were committed by the same man, and by the deceased. Saw him next, at a distance, in February, 1864 ; and have not seen him since.

John Pickering Jackson, carrier, residing in Melbourne, stated.—On Friday night last I was about four miles on the Benalla side of Winton. I was walking alongside the horses when a man galloped up to the leaders, waved one revolver about, and presented it at me. He said, "Stop the waggon." I stopped it. He said, "Cash, cash; I want your cash; quick, quick." I said "All right." He uttered no verbal threat. I gave him £7 under coer- cion. I have seen the deceased, and I swear he is the same man that committed the offence. Have no doubt about his identify. I noticed him carefully, and am certain he is the same man. He was riding a black cob—a sort of Arab breed. After leaving me he galloped forward, and stuck-up the next

waggon.

Thomas Tuckett, carrier, stated,—On Fri- day night last I saw the deceased, about half past three. He stuck me up about four miles the Benalla side of Winton. He rode up on the near side of the waggon, pointed a revol- ver at me, and ordered me to stand. I pulled up the horses, and by his direction got off the waggon. He presented his pistol at me and demanded my cash, and all my jewellery, and told me to throw them on the ground. I threw down one pocketbook containing £7. He then asked me if I had any more. I said I had another pocketbook, containing three halfcrowns and a sixpence, and at his request I threw that down. He told me to get on the waggon, and as I turned round he demanded my watch, and at his request I threw the watch on the ground. I recognise the silver watch produced as my property, by a piece of string tied round the guard, and by the thin- ness of the case, and by the maker's name, "Harrison, Liverpool." l am confident that the man lying dead is the same that robbed me.

[Gibson]

Ewen M'Pherson, of Peechelba station, squatter, stated,—About a quarter past six on Saturday evening I noticed the man now lying dead. I was sitting on the sofa in the room I am now in, with my family. I saw the figure of a man passing along the veran- dah. I called out to know what he wanted, and he walked into the lobby to the room door, and ordered me back, as I approached within three inches of him. As soon as he came in he said, " I am Mr. Morgan. I sup- pose you have heard of me?" I said "It is all right : step in." Immediately afterwards Mr. Telford and two men came in, and he ordered them up to the end of the room. He let me sit on the sofa. He ordered the girls in, and asked me if there was a man cook. I said "No." He put no more questions. He stood against the check of the door. He had a revolver in his hand at this time. He re- mained in the room all night. He conversed with me about Round-hill. He said it was said he was drunk when he was at the Round- hill station, but he was the only sober man there. He said positively that it was he that stuck-up the Round-hill station. With re- ference to the shooting of persons at Round- hill, he said it was reported in the newspapers that his own revolver went off when he was mounting his horse, but it was not so. That Watson, the super, or some one in the shed, fired at him. He said he found the old pistol in the shed afterwards. He said Watson was catching at his bridle when he fired, shot Watson through the hand, and with the same ball broke young Heriott's leg. He said he was sorry for that, and did not mean to shoot him. About shooting M'Lean, he said M'Lean asked his (deceased's) leave to go for Dr. Stitt. He said he gave him positive instruc- tions not to go to the police camp, saying, "I saw you there yesterday ; don't go there." He said M'Lean, after getting out of the pad- dock, made straight for the police camp. He called to him to stop and take the other road : but M'Lean did not do so, and he (Morgan) mounted his horse, followed him, and after calling several times to him to stop, put spurs to his horse, and shot M'Lean. He said he was not going the straight road to Dr. Stitt's He said "To show you l was not drunk, after I had shot M'Lean I put him on a horse and carried him back to the station, and found young Heriott lying in mud, where he had left him," and that he took him in and at- tended to him also. Deceased told me it was Sergeant M'Ginnerty's revolver he had in his hand while in my house. He made no allu- sion to having shot M'Ginnerty. The revol- ver produced is the one deceased said he took from Sergeant M'Ginnerty, of the New South Wales police, and is the one he covered us with in the room. Deceased told me he was on the Upper Murray a few days before. He told me that two days before he was riding a fine racing mare worth 200 guineas. De- ceased told me he was convicted in 1854, and sentenced to twelve years. He said he had been at Warby's, and spoke of a mare in Warby's stable, which he did not take, be- cause her hoof was cracked. I understood from deceased's conversation that he had lost his way coming from Warby's, and that meet- ing the two men be brought them in with him. He (deceased) remained in my house till a quarter or twenty minutes past eight on Sunday morning. He then went out. I went out with him, and Mr. Robert Telford, my son Gideon M'Pherson, and two other men also, went with deceased. As we were start- ing deceased said he would have to press a horse from me, but that the horse would cast up to-morrow or next day. We all then walked down towards the stockyard. I asked Morgan how the horses were to be got in, and he agreed to let my son go for them, but when we got outside we saw the horses at the stack. The stack-yard is about 250 yards from the house, and we were within twenty or thirty yards of the stack-yard when, look- ing round, I noticed a number of men run- ning down behind us. I was then close to Morgan's side, and my son was on the other side of him. I stepped aside three or four yards when I noticed the men behind, and immediately after that I heard a shot fired, and deceased fell within three or four yards of me. A number of people came up. I saw Percy the trooper. He was about the first man up, and took Morgan's pistols from him. John Windlaw told me that he fired at and shot Morgan. Windlaw has been a servant of mine for years. Deceased was then carried down to the woolshed. I heard deceased say nothing after he was shot. I was confined to the house by deceased from his arrival until we all went out together, except that he al- lowed me to go on the verandah once. I have seen the body lying in the woolshed, and identify it as that of the man who stuck me up.

George Rutherford, of Peechelba Station, squatter, stated,—On Saturday night last, about seven or eight p.m, Mr. M Pherson's nurse informed me Morgan had stuck them all up. I came up to the back of Mr. M'Pherson's house, and found all the girls, with the ex- ception of the nurse, in this room, I knew, as a matter of fact, that the place and inmates were stuck up, but did not know for certain by whom. I started a man with a note to Sergeant Montford, at Wangaratta, request- ing police assistance. A party of volunteers arrived, with Constable Evans, and we con- certed measures for capturing the man who had stuck up the house. I saw one person come out of the house in the morning, about eight a.m. I saw Mr. M'Pherson, his son, two other men, and Mr. Telford come out of the house. One of the two men was a labourer on the station, and the other was a man whom I supposed to be Morgan, and who is identical with the man now lying dead in the woolshed. I was at that time at my house, about 400 or 500 yards from here. I saw the five persons walk down to the gate, the now deceased walking behind the others. After passing through the gate, de- ceased came up between Mr. M'Pherson and his son. I saw a number of armed men running up from different directions towards deceased, and I saw John Windlaw fire at de- ceased from a distance of about forty yards. I saw the deceased drop simultaneously with the firing of the shot. It was arranged by Windlaw, myself, and Evans that Windlaw was to shoot the man that had stuck up the house, and whom we believed to be Morgan. It was not particularly arranged that Wind- law was to shoot the deceased, but that any of the men who had arms and got a chance was to shoot him. The directions given by Mounted-constable Evans in my hear- ing to the armed men were given under the belief that the man who was stick- ing up the house was Morgan, and that warrants had been issued for his arrest. I have read descriptions of Morgan in Govern- ment advertisements in the newspapers. I identify a portrait purporting to represent Morgan to be a likeness of the now deceased. I conversed with deceased soon after he was shot. He said he did not know me ; did not know Mr. Connolly. I asked him if he knew Mr. Warby. He said, "Yes." I asked him if his real name was Morgan or Moran. He said, "No." He then said, "Why did they not give me a chance? Why did they not challenge me?" I asked him which was his real name, Morgan or Moran? De- ceased said, "No." I have seen deceased, and he is the same man that I saw shot. Windlaw has been an old servant of mine. I saw five men, whom I took to be, and be- lieved to be, police, coming towards the house before Morgan came out of the house. Constable Evans and another Wangaratta policeman arrived before the Beechworth police.

William Mainwaring, first-class detective, stationed at Beechworth, stated,—I was, with others, in pursuit of the deceased, supposed to be Morgan. I departed from Mr. Con- nolly's on Saturday evening, my destination being this station (Peechelba). Was in com- pany with Constables Percy, Hall, and Chilly. Before that I was with Superintendent Winch and Constables Nicholson and Ryan. First obtained information of this man about five miles on the Melbourne side of Wangaratta, and we tracked him on to Peechelba. We were bushed on the road, and arrived about seven a.m. on Sunday. About an hour and twenty minutes after we arrived I saw deceased come out at the slip-panel. I saw deceased shot by John Windlaw. He was the only person that fired at the time. I went up after de- ceased fell. I searched deceased, and Mounted- constable Percy found seven £5 notes and thirty-two £1 notes. I took from his left- hand trousers pocket a purse containing three £1 Sydney notes, a draft on the Australian Joint-Stock Bank at Wagga Wagga in favour of Charles Barton Pearson for £7, marked "A." five sovereigns, and one half-sovereign. In his swag I found £6 12s. 9d., in silver. Percy handed me the watch produced. I saw Percy, when he ran up, draw one re- volver from deceased's belt and throw it over his shoulder. I had been out after the sup- posed Morgan since early on Friday morning, with Superintendent Winch, Constable Shoo- bridge, and the other constables before mentioned.

James Percy, mounted constable, stationed at Beechworth, stated,—I was one of a party of police who started in pursuit of the sup- posed Morgan. I went as far as Glenrowan when a man brought information to us that Morgan had just stuck up Warby's station. We went to Warby's, and found that the bushranger had started three-quarters of an hour before towards Connolly's. We went to Connolly's, and Superintendent Winch arrived shortly after, and ordered us to go to Peechelba. This was about four p.m. on Saturday. I reached this place (Peechelba) between six and seven a.m. on Sunday. We ascertained that Morgan was in Mr. M'Pher- son's house. We were going to the house, when a man ran out and told us to keep back. Mainwaring's party, of which I was one, was here while Morgan was in the house. The first time I saw the deceased was when he was walking towards the stack-yard. Windlaw and I were close together, and as I turned to see where the others were I saw Windlaw take aim and fire at the deceased, and I saw deceased fall. Windlaw fired with a single-barrelled gun, at a distance of sixty paces. As soon as deceased fell I rushed on him, drew a revolver from his belt, and threw it away. The revolver produced is the one I took from deceased. Deceased's left thumb was in his pocket, and some notes were sticking out. I saw the butt of the pistol sticking up at his left side, as he lay on his back. I took the two watches produced from deceased's waistcoat. I handed the notes and property that I took from deceased to De- tective Mainwaring. The pistols were loaded.

George Evans, foot constable at Wanga- ratta, stated,—I arrived at this place (Peech- elba) about one or two a.m. on Sunday with two volunteers and another constable named Leverton. One of the volunteers was armed. We had received information that the station was stuck up. We made our way to Mr. Rutherford's house with the help of a guide along the river bank. I stationed the men round the house. I, Windlaw, and Donald Clarke were stationed twenty or thirty yards from the verandah. We were there from 2.30 a.m. till near daybreak. I saw deceased shot, and I identify deceased as the man I saw shot. When day broke I shifted the men to the back of the house, and I afterwards saw deceased come out of the house. Deceased was shot by Windlaw.

John James Hallett, M.D.—I have made a post-mortem examination of the body of the man now lying dead in the woolshed at the Peechelba Station. I found the lowest of the cervical vertebras to be shattered, and the spinal marrow within, as a consequence, destroyed. I found that whatever may have caused his death must have entered just above the left shoulder blade. It was apparently a bullet wound. The edges of the wound were in- verted. I traced the exit of the ball to a por- tion of the neck high up and under the chin to the right side of the windpipe. The wound of exit was a little more dilated than the wound of entrance, and was a little ragged. I consider the cause of death was the de- struction of the spinal marrow, caused, I should suppose, by a gunshot wound. A man wounded like that, I should consider, would fall immediately, and might linger and live a few hours. No blood-vessels were destroyed.

By the Jury.—I noticed a fatty tumour a little to the right of the centre of the back of his head.

Joseph Henry, duly-qualified medical practitioner, stated,—I assisted to make a post- mortem examination of the body outside with Dr. Hallett. I found the cause of death to be the fracture of two of the cervical vertebrae by a gunshot wound. Such a wound would cause a man to drop immediately, and he could not live very long.

Dr. Dobbyn, the coroner, was examined by Mr. R. W. Shadforth, police magistrate of Wangaratta.—Yesterday, shortly after twelve noon I arrived at Peechelba. I saw the de- ceased, who was then alive. I examined him, and found two bullet wounds—the entrance wound on the left scapula, and the wound of exit on the right side of the lungs. When I saw him first he was in a dying state, but quite sensible. I asked him if he was in much pain. He said, after some time, that he was choking. He died very shortly after. I examined deceased for peculiarities imme- diately after death. I had the body stripped. I observed that deceased was about five feet ten inches in height, of very spare build, had very long darkish brown hair; a fibrous tumour, rather larger than a pigeon's egg, on the back of his head ; his eyes were greyish-blue ; he had lost the top joint of the third finger on the right hand ; and there were shot marks, or what appeared to be such, on the back of one of his hands. The most peculiar look of his face was his nose. He had several very small moles on his hack, and a vaccination mark low down on one arm, six inches above the elbow. There was a small piece of nail growing over the top of the mutilated finger. The description of Morgan exactly tallies with that of deceased.

VERDICT.

"That the deceased, whom we believe to be Daniel Morgan, met his death from a gunshot wound, inflicted by John Windlaw on the morning of the 9th April, 1865, at Peechelba station, on the Ovens River; and we further consider that the homicide was justifiable. We further consider that great praise is due to all concerned in the capture of the deceased."

(BY AN EYE WITNESS.)


WANGARATTA, April 11. As a spectator at Morgan's death, I have thought fit to send you my impression of the scene.

Peechelba station is twenty-one miles from Wangaratta. Being a friend of the families there, the messenger sent by Mr. Rutherford for the police aroused me near midnight on Saturday with the news—"Morgan is at Pee- chelba." Mounted on a fast horse, I soon over- took the party of police, with two other men and the guide ; but we had not gone half-way when another party of four joined us. The messenger guiding, we were brought to a re- tired spot within a few hundred yards of Mr. Rutherford's house, and here we dismounted ; while the guide on foot went to reconnoitre, and find whether Morgan had come down, and taken possession of it also. In the deepest anxiety we waited in the thick river- side scrub.

At last we heard persons approaching. We found these to be Mr. Rutherford and the guide, with the glad news—"Morgan is still at M'Pherson's, and likely to remain there till morning." We all left our horses, and went on foot to Rutherford's house, and there, after much consultation, the armed men were distributed, and sent off to their respective stations round M'Pherson's house.

It was about half-past two when the armed men took their places, while the unarmed remained at Rutherford's. Three of these, I being one of them, sat in a room looking towards M'Pherson's. It was an anxious time. We knew not when we might hear the report of firearms, for we feared that Morgan might attempt to drive his captives down to our quarter. We knew that he could not well go away, as his horse, and indeed all the horses, were in the paddock. We saw the lamp burning hour after hour in that distant house ; and there we pictured—as, indeed, had been described by the bold nurse-girl—the revolvers on the table, the sleepless, but sleepy murderer, and the innocent in- mates huddled together in the room. A brave Scot, D. Clarke, who had been the guide to the placing of the armed men, brought us tidings of the inmates twice through that strange night-tidings that all as yet was well, and that the ladies were in their bedrooms.

As morning broke we extinguished our lamp, to avoid suspicion, threw open the shutters, and then sat down to watch with anxious hearts. While it was yet scarce broad day, we saw a new lamp light, it was that of the hall ; and then a figure on the verandah, whom we judged to be Morgan. Soon the door closed. Then ever and again we saw the women servants going backwards andforwards from the house to the main build- ing. After a while down came a man with pails in his hand, and a message from Mrs. M'Pherson from her bedroom to allow every- thing to go on as usual. So the hours flew speedily; and as the house was being lit up by the rays of the sun, one man went to milk cows, another to drive the horses to water, other two with a cart to bring in some mutton killed the night before—and all this in sight of M'Pherson's house.

And how we watched that house so eagerly, for that door to open. "O God !" cries one of our party, "there moves these armed men at the fence" (it was a far better shelter, we after- wards learned). About eight, the door again opens. A man comes in his shirt sleeves ; walks in the garden; looks over the fence. It is Morgan ! But again the door is shut.

But who is this coming down on horse- back, past M'Pherson's house ; and who are these men in the distance, with glancing arms ? The man we find is from Wangaratta, and these are police just arrived, who take their station behind the house (M'Pherson's). Well it was that a man had been stationed on the road from Wangaratta to stop any who might come that way, or there would have been a different tale to tell ; however, they were warned in time. Still the door remains closed. A scout brings in news that Morgan is at breakfast, chatting freely with his captives. Mr. Rutherford and his men go about as usual ; while we strangers, to avoid suspicion, stay within doors. It was nearing nine. On that lovely Sunday morning there must be death ere long, were our thoughts- of how many, who could tell? There must be blood spilt-whose we knew not. One thought of one, and another of another-of friends they loved. What was to be the end? Some dozen men, armed, were round that house-a cool, well-trained shot and cruel murderer within. The suspense grew terrible. The clock was about to strike nine, when the door opened, and one, two, three, four, five persons came out into the verandah. In indian file they passed, Morgan last, through the gate, and evidently through the horses, now eating hay at the haystack. When they were half-way down we saw the three armed men moving at last, running stealthily-running from tree to tree—behind that man driving down his captives before him—little he knew who was behind.

[Gibson]

We four now stood in the verandah. One of our party could not restrain the shout of cheer "Well done." Nearer, nearer. Two are behind a tree. That string of men separate a little. A sharp ringing sound—some smoke—a shout. I ran, fleetest of our party, and I stood at the head of that man—his long black hair, his long dark beard, his keen, half-closed grey eyes, his arms lying still by his side, his mouth with warm blood frothing on his compressed lips— these are the lines of a picture which Time's weird hand can never blot out.

A warm pressure from the hand of him whom I call my friend—the man whose life was in peril from the murderer's—and from the avenger's hand, this was all ; and I fled on speedy horse to the distant township, to hear the bells calling worshippers to prayer.

[jmort]

Good tale. Seems like he could be a decent uninvited guest, passing around your "grog" or a nightmare. Speaking of grog, he would have made a good pirate, he sure looks like he was cast right out of Hollywood.

[Gibson]

Good tale. Seems like he could be a decent uninvited guest, passing around your "grog" or a nightmare. Speaking of grog, he would have made a good pirate, he sure looks like he was cast right out of Hollywood.

Indeed! I just cobbled those two main accounts together for source material for anyone printing them out for future reference. Fascinating stuff.

Sure good you are back; hope you had a great time!

Remember the Dennis Hopper film?



http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074836/

Hopper was 2/3 insane during the period himself. . .

Here is the entire film, uncut. Cool, eh?

[9.3X62AL]

Good work, Jay. Dennis Hopper has spent a good portion of his life with diminished capacity of some sort, often inspired or assisted by intoxicants of varying forms. His cameo appearance in "Apocalypse Now" as Col. Kurtz's little acolyte was simply a matter of Dennis Hopper in real life being paraded in front of the cameras in his natural state, then prompted off-camera to continue his ramblings. This per a mutual acquaintance of us both c. 1981.

[Gibson]

Good work, Jay. Dennis Hopper has spent a good portion of his life with diminished capacity of some sort, often inspired or assisted by intoxicants of varying forms. His cameo appearance in "Apocalypse Now" as Col. Kurtz's little acolyte was simply a matter of Dennis Hopper in real life being paraded in front of the cameras in his natural state, then prompted off-camera to continue his ramblings. This per a mutual acquaintance of us both c. 1981.

Thanks as always, Big AL!

The guy had immense talent but lived in an intoxicated state for years. Surely delivered some classic lines. . .

BTW: Conrad's "Heart of Darkness" is one of my favorites.

[cdupuy]

Gibson:
In your researching have you come across a figure called 6 toes Pete/Pistol Pete.My Father spoke of this individule on ocassion but I cant find anything on him. if my memory serves I think he was from Either Oklahoma or Texas.
I enjoy your writings a bunch and you are much appreciated Sir.
Clarence

[Gibson]

Clarence:

I appreciate the kind words. Do you mean Frank Eaton of Oklahoma fame?

[gunseller]

And another fine tale. I love the way you mix US and Aussy bad men. One question I have is were firearms controlled in Aussy land back then to a large extent? It seems like many places did not have firearms to stop the bad guys or is it just the bad guys got the drop on them or no one wanted to fight. Or am I just confused.
Steve

[cdupuy]

I believe that is the Gentleman Dad spoke of, I also believe he was Law Enforcement. Good with a thumb buster.

[Trapperscott]

I believe that is the Gentleman Dad spoke of, I also believe he was Law Enforcement. Good with a thumb buster.

Yep, that is Frank "Pistol Pete" Eaton. He is who the Oklahoma State cowboys used as a model for their mascot. He lived about 10-12 miles south of Stillwater Ok in a little town called Perkins. Quite a story with him. Quite the pistolaro. A small guy that you didn't want to cross. Lots of history here in Ok on him. I think his pistol or pistols are on display at OSU at Gallagher Iba arena.

[Wal']

And another fine tale. I love the way you mix US and Aussy bad men. One question I have is were firearms controlled in Aussy land back then to a large extent? It seems like many places did not have firearms to stop the bad guys or is it just the bad guys got the drop on them or no one wanted to fight. Or am I just confused.
Steve

No it was much the same as your wild west, the pioneers/frontier people lived a poor existence where the purchase of good & reliable firearms was expensive & hard to find...........like your outlaws it was just easier for them to steal whatever they needed from their victims.

There were some restrictions with firearms by the original British settlements but as free men started arriving "the gold rush period" for example & even many Americans especially after the Civil War, guns for defence where commonly carried by those that could afford it.

Interestingly there is a buried Confederate soldiers grave not far from where I live.